


Rain from an Empty Sky

by elliebird



Series: Previously Posted Roswell, New Mexico Fic (2019) [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Coda, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22766380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebird/pseuds/elliebird
Summary: Coda to episode 1x02.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Previously Posted Roswell, New Mexico Fic (2019) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636822
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	Rain from an Empty Sky

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on 01.29.19

The door slams shut behind Michael and in the echoing silence, there’s only the rhythm of Alex’s frantic heartbeat. 

Inside the Airstream, the afternoon daylight casts a glow across the walls. The hot air is thick with dust, the tin shell of the trailer concentrating the summer heat. 

The floor creaks beneath Alex’s feet as Michael steps close. Behind him, Michael fits himself to the length of Alex from thighs and hips to belly and chest. With Michael’s hand on his hip, Alex leans back against the strength of his body. He’s vulnerable and exposed, having flayed himself open to Michael’s unflinching gaze, those haunting eyes never wavering as Alex showed his heart. 

Michael braces him for a beat with a hand on Alex’s hip, giving them a moment to steady themselves. His t-shirt clings to him and Alex can smell the sweat on his skin. The tension of the moment is reflected in the sounds of their ragged breaths, the way Michael holds himself still. 

Alex can feel the wild race of Michael’s heart where he’s tucked up against Alex.  
Michael takes a breath and the earth tips wildly on its axis as he spins Alex around to face him. 

The want and urgency on Michael’s face knocks the wind out of Alex. He reaches up blindly, gripping Michael to steady himself, his hand curling around the hot, damp skin of his arm beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. 

Alex aches for this. When Michael kisses him, Alex meets him beat for beat, opening up to the insistent press of his lips, leaning into the hand at the small of his back, craving Michael’s touch on his skin. 

It was always hot and heavy between the two of them. When they didn’t agree or their tempers flared, they could always count on the makeup that came later. It’s fucking incendiary now. 

Michael’s hands cup his face and Alex gives as good as he gets, sliding his fingers into Michael’s hair, gripping the base of his skull and opening to Michael’s insistent, searching mouth. 

Michael backs them towards the bed, pulling Alex’s sweatshirt down his arms and letting it fall to the floor. 

He stops with his hands in Alex’s hair, gripping him like he’s terrified of letting go. With a shuddering inhale, he pushes Alex backwards. He lands gracelessly on the narrow mattress, sprawled and waiting. 

Michael takes his shirt off and Alex forgets to breathe. He can’t look away. He can’t do anything but memorize the way Michael looks right now in his worn jeans and nothing else, looking at Alex the way he always has, desperate and willing to give Alex anything. 

Michael’s shoulders are broader. He’s golden everywhere from a life spent outdoors. Alex drinks him in, from the the flush on his chest, the flex of his abdomen and the trail of hair beneath his belly button. When Alex meets his eyes, Michael is watching him look with a primal, raw need that hits Alex like a fist. 

Alex doesn’t look away as Michael closes the distance and climbs carelessly into the bed, covering Alex with his weight. His hips pin Alex to the bed and he arches up to meet him, his heart in his throat. 

Ten years have passed since the last time they did this. Alex had his post-Michael period of self destruction after leaving Roswell. He spent eleven months drinking too much and sleeping with guys who’d never mean more to him than a chance to put Michael out of his head for an hour or two. 

To have this again - to have Michael above him, surrounding him, touching him - when he’d thought those days were long gone, numbs the ache in his chest, hope spreading outwards like rays of sunlight. 

Alex clings to him, hungry and aching and terrified of how much he needs him. 

Michael is bravado and swagger, a cockiness that has always vibrated beneath the surface. It’s all a massive front. Alex knows the truth in the tender way he strokes his thumb over the apple of Alex’s cheek and the heat in his eyes when he drags his lips away to catch his breath, looking down at Alex with a concerned furrow between his eyebrows, gauging that he’s still fully onboard. 

Michael’s body is different. Sculpted from years of working on the cattle ranch and at the junkyard, doing odd jobs around town, using his body to make a living. Alex digs his fingertips into the shifting, rippling skin of his back, muscles beneath his touch that hadn’t been there the last time they did this. 

Michael pushes a hand beneath his t-shirt, calloused fingers grazing Alex’s skin with a reverence that makes his throat tight. He drags the cotton up his stomach and chest, eyes on Alex’s as he does, watching him with an arrested expression. Alex lifts up enough for Michael to pull the t-shirt up and off, discarding it absently. 

It’s quiet between them. When Michael’s fingers move to the front of Alex’s jeans, he drags his eyes up, over the definition in his stomach and chest given to him by the air force, along with the scar above his ribs. 

He pauses, watching Alex. It looks like he might say something but after a second, he drags Alex’s jeans off his hips and the moment is gone. 

They get each other naked, unable to go a second without hands and lips on each other’s skin. Michael carefully pushes Alex back into the pillows and fits himself between his spread thighs. 

Alex can’t focus on anything. Michael’s kissing him with a frantic urgency, his cock slick and hard against Alex’s stomach. Alex wraps an arm around his neck and shifts so he can get the friction that sends a jolt down his spine, heat settling heavy in his stomach, spreading up and out until his entire body feels foreign, a spark away from catching fire. 

They make out in the fading daylight with years of heartache and bittersweet memories between them. Every stroke of Michael’s fingers over his skin, every pause between kisses is fraught with all the words they’ve left unspoken. 

Alex hasn’t wanted anyone in this way since he left Roswell. He wonders distantly, as Michael reaches between them and wraps his hand around Alex like he still remembers exactly how Alex likes it, if he’s going to regret this. 

Alex comes before Michael. It builds quickly, almost sudden and out of nowhere, sparked by the sound Michael makes when he tears his mouth from Alex’s and lifts his head to look at him. Alex gasps and comes hard all over his stomach. Michael ducks back down and kisses Alex through it. Alex’s chest goes tight because Michael fucking remembered and Alex can’t do anything but breathe into Michael's open mouth as his body shudders through his orgasm. 

Michael buries his head in the hot curve of Alex’s shoulder, grazes his teeth over his tender skin and comes with a shudder and a jerk of his hips. 

Afterwards, Michael braces himself over Alex. His eyes are soft, damp curls in a riot. He slides a hand into the sweaty hair at the nape of Alex’s neck and kisses him with parted lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm on [Tumblr](https://elliebirdthings.tumblr.com/)


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